


Take Care (The Dart to the Heart Remix)

by Polomonkey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Episode: s03e12-13 The Coming of Arthur, Gwaine Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-06-27 06:38:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19785286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: Arthur and Gwaine take care of Merlin whilst in Jarl's captivity. Merlin only wishes they would take care of each other too.





	Take Care (The Dart to the Heart Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Dart to the Neck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3270521) by [Malu_3 (Grainne)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grainne/pseuds/Malu_3). 



> Malu, I must have started at least twenty different fics prompted by your beautiful works! I wanted to write you an epic worthy of your prose but I hope you'll forgive this little deleted scene from your lovely Arthur/Gwaine fic instead. Thank you for the inspiration!
> 
> To the amazing mods who have been above and beyond patient with me, thank you for all your hard work running this wonderful fest <3
> 
> Also fills my h/c bingo square 'group support'

Gwaine corners Merlin shortly after Arthur goes off to bargain for some food with one of the burly men at the side of Jarl's pit.

“Can’t you get us out of here with… you know…”

He waves his hands about in an unrecognisably bad approximation of spell casting but it still makes Merlin cluck with panic and bat them down. It's been both relief and agony since Gwaine revealed he knew Merlin's secret (apparently even in the midst of a tavern brawl, plates flinging themselves around don't always go unnoticed) but he definitely isn't used to talking about it in public, and especially not with Arthur in earshot.

“He’ll hear you!”

“Ah, he’s too busy bartering some bread for you,” Gwaine says dismissively.

“And you.”

“Don’t think so. Don’t reckon he’ll forgive me for being Jarl’s champion anytime soon.”

Gwaine’s tone could almost be nonchalant but Merlin can hear the brittle undercurrent.

“He knows you had no choice,” he says softly and Gwaine shrugs.

“Sure, the Princess can think what he likes, I wasn’t put on this earth to please him.”

“Arthur thinks everyone was put on this earth to please him,” Merlin says and they both snigger. But then Merlin’s snigger turns into a cough and then another and he can’t seem to stop.

“Alright?” Gwaine says, sounding concerned. “Do you need my jacket?”

“S’not the cold,” Merlin says, a little thickly. “I think whatever was in the dart is reacting badly to my-”

He can’t say the word out loud, even if it’s only Gwaine to hear, habit bites too hard; so he find himself making the same ridiculous hand gesture Gwaine made earlier.

“Ah,” Gwaine says with a nod. “Take it that means you won’t be levitating us out of here tonight, then?”

“Oh yes, because Arthur would love that.”

“It’s about time he knew,” Gwaine says breezily. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Being executed,” Merlin says in the lightest voice he can manage, ignoring the sick swoop of his stomach at the thought. He doesn’t believe Arthur would do that to him, not really, but it isn’t something he can ever put out of his mind either.

Gwaine’s face has softened.

“He loves you too much for that,” he says, sure and steady and something else besides. Merlin’s about to protest that Arthur has a funny way of showing whatever brotherly love he may be hiding deep down, what with all the manhandling and general throwing of things at Merlin, then he catches on to the something else in Gwaine’s voice and realises it’s wistfulness.

He opens his mouth to explain that it’s not like that between him and Arthur, that there’s nothing standing in Gwaine and Arthur’s way other than ego and stubbornness, but then another cough racks his body and suddenly Arthur is by his side.

“Drink this,” he says, shoving a tattered water-skin into Merlin’s hands. “I already had my fill, you may as well have the rest.”

The water-skin is full to the brim but Merlin lets Arthur have the lie and drinks gratefully, accepting the crust of bread Arthur pushes on him after too.

“What did you have to give away for that?” Gwaine says, leering suggestively, and Arthur rolls his eyes.

“My silver pin. What did Jarl give you to be his prize fighting dog?”

“Arthur,” Merlin says warningly but Gwaine only laughs.

“Jarl’s champion is any man who manages to live through the day’s fight. Perhaps you’ll be the new champion tomorrow, _sire_.”

“Or perhaps all three of us find a way out of here without getting stabbed or fed to crows,” Merlin suggests, because he’s an optimist at heart.

It goes unnoticed though because Arthur and Gwaine are staring at each other, chins raised in challenge.

"I hope you know I won't hold back in the fight," Arthur says self-assuredly.

"Good," Gwaine says. "It'll be more satisfying that way when I win."

Arthur scoffs.

"You're a good fighter Gwaine, but I'm better."

"We'll see, won't we, Princess?" Gwaine says cockily. "Personally I'd find it quite hard to fight with that big a stick up my arse but maybe it works for you."

He lets his gaze drift down to Arthur's breeches.

"Of course if you need help removing it, I'd be happy to volunteer..."

Arthur all but splutters in outrage.

"The only thing removed will be the tongue from your head if you keep up with such insolence."

"Oh but I can do such things with my tongue, Princess," Gwaine says lasciviously. "Merlin can attest to that."

It's Merlin's turn to splutter.

"I absolutely cannot!"

Gwaine shrugs, unrepentant.

"Well not yet but the offer's open anytime, my friend..."

"The only danger your tongue holds for either of us is being talked to death, Gwaine," Arthur says irritably. "Cease your prattle."

"You going to make me?"

"If I have to."

Arthur and Gwaine are standing almost toe to toe, eyes locked together, and Merlin wonders if they'd even notice him levitating them out right now.

"I had you on the floor before, Gwaine, and I can do it again," Arthur warns, which even Merlin can see is an unfortunate choice of words.

"Is that a promise?" 

"Let's play a game," Merlin says, a little desperate. "Who can guess what's in my pocket?"

"Is this the kind of game where I get to feel around?" Gwaine says, not taking his eyes off Arthur.

"I swear to the gods Gwaine, one more word-"

Merlin sighs. It seems a long night is ahead.

But Arthur and Gwaine's posturing turns out to be the least of Merlin's worries.

It's been hours since the dart hit him but his chest is getting tighter and tighter, his breath coming out in short wheezes. His head hurts and his side is sore from the fall off his horse and his magic feels woozy under his skin.

It will pass. It’s not poison, he sadly knows all too well how that feels coursing through his veins, and this is nothing like as bad. But it aches and he’s exhausted and scared for what happens if his magic doesn't recover in time to help them all.

“It’s alright,” he mumbles as Arthur makes him take another sip of water.

“Honestly, Merlin, you need to put some meat on your bones. I got the exact same dart in the neck and you don’t see me wilting like a maiden, do you?”

“Gwen’d kill you for saying that,” Merlin chokes out.

"Tell her and you're on stable duties for a month."

Merlin rasps out a laugh, mainly to get rid of the worry in Arthur's eyes.

He can't do anything about the shaking though, he feels like he might rattle out of his own skin. For a while he can only focus on his own ragged breathing and he doesn't break out of his reverie until he hears Gwaine's voice stating the obvious.

"You're shaking."

Merlin's plea that he's fine sounds unconvincing even to his own ears.

Gwaine pays no mind, sitting down by his side and glaring at Arthur until they both start rubbing warmth back into Merlin's arms. Which is... nice, actually. The trembling stops and he feels his chest loosening a little, especially when Gwaine takes to rubbing slow circles on it.

It's nice to be held. Nice to have friends. Merlin hadn't realised how much he'd missed Gwaine of late, especially with no Lancelot to confide in anymore. He loves Arthur and Gwen dearly but having someone around that knows about his magic, that accepts it and him unquestioningly... it's precious to Merlin. Already he's sad thinking of how Gwaine will soon part from them again. 

It will make Arthur sad too, though he'll never say. But Merlin knows one day Camelot will be on Arthur's terms alone, and Gwaine will be welcomed back. They just have to survive long enough to see it.

Merlin lets his eyes slip closed, lulled by the rhythmic massaging of his chest. He thinks he can tell the moments when Arthur and Gwaine's hands brush together, because of the minute intake in Arthur's breath.

Idiots, both of them, he thinks fondly and drifts off.

*

When Merlin wakes again, he's cold. There's no warmth on either side of him anymore and he looks up to see Arthur on the other side of the pit, feeling along the wall with practiced hands. Looking for an escape route. Merlin has an idea he should get up and help but he still feels weak and exhausted and something tells him to save his strength. He'll need it to get the three of them out of this mess.

He watches Arthur for a while, admiring the studied concentration with which he sets about his task. Everything he does is so precise, so intentional. It makes him lethal in a fight and decisive as a master. It's a less good quality in a lover.

Merlin sighs, because it's none of his business, and yet Gwaine and Arthur have been dancing round each other since they met and Merlin can't help but think that a bit of Gwaine's chaotic energy might be exactly what Arthur needs to balance him out. 

But Arthur seems unable to admit it and Gwaine's just as bad, flirting with everyone under the sun so Arthur thinks he's just one of many. And Arthur has too much pride to be one of many, too much intensity to share his lover with anyone else. 

If only Gwaine wasn't banished, they might have time to get to know each other better...

He ruminates on it until another coughing fit takes hold. He tries to stifle it as much as possible, not wanting Arthur to fret, but he ends up attracting attention of a much more unwanted sort.

"If you don't shut up and let us sleep boy, I'll come over there and give you something to cough about."

Merlin starts in shock and turns to see a burly man with a ruddy beard sitting up close by, a ferocious scowl on his face.

He tries to say he can't help it, but he can only cough more and the man's eyes narrow.

He makes a sudden violent gesture and Merlin cringes back in fear, wondering if his fuzzy magic will be enough to defend him. But then there's someone stood between them.

"One more move Drayton and I'll rip you to shreds."

Gwaine's stance is as easy as ever but his voice is hard as winter frost. He stares at the burly man and it's the latter who breaks eye contact first.

"Save it for Jarl, _champion_ ," the man sneers, but he's backing away, putting a healthy distance between himself and Gwaine.

For a moment Merlin could be afraid of the ice in his friend's eyes, but when he turns back to Merlin his face softens and he's Gwaine again.

"You alright?"

"Just trying to stay alive long enough to be fed to the crows," Merlin quips, rubbing his chest.

Gwaine doesn't hesitate before sitting down beside Merlin and taking over the rubbing again.

"Fat lot of good he was," he says, nodding towards Arthur, still feeling along the wall.

"He's concentrating," Merlin says. "He'd have noticed eventually."

"Yeah and you might have been strung up by your ankles by then," Gwaine says sagely and then suddenly laughs. "What am I saying? You could have blasted that man into the beyond without Arthur or me lifting a finger to help."

"I don't know about that," Merlin says, still so unused to discussing his magic openly with anyone but Gaius. He feels shy, almost, both glad of the attention and bashful of it.

Gwaine grins.

'Too modest, my friend. I've been up and down this land and I've rarely seen power like yours."

"M'not that powerful."

His chest chooses that moment to seize and he convulses slightly. Gwaine keeps rubbing until Merlin subsides.

"Yes you are, and it's a load off my mind, mate, let me tell you. It's good to know you can take care of yourself in Camelot when I can't be around to do it for you."

He winks and Merlin raises an eyebrow.

"You don't trust Arthur to do that?" 

"Pah, the Princess can barely take care of himself," Gwaine says, tossing his hair. "Between the tavern fight, the melee and the wyverns, I seem to be saving his arse every time I see him."

"Perhaps he needs someone to take care of him," Merlin says deliberately.

Gwaine's hand stills on his chest, but only for a second.

"That's what you do, isn't it?"

If it weren't for the fact his head was pounding already, Merlin might bang it against the wall. He'd half suspected for a long time Arthur was denying his feelings for Gwaine because he believed Merlin had a prior claim. It was now becoming apparent that Gwaine thought the exact same in reverse.

"I take care of him as a manservant and a friend, yes," Merlin says firmly. "Nothing more than that."

"Well Gwen might-"

"Gwen loves Lancelot, as you well know, considering how many times she rejected your flirting."

"I wouldn't say rejected-"

"Gwaine! Neither Gwen nor I has a claim on Arthur's heart. I believe another does, though he chooses not to act for some reason."

Merlin twists his head to meet Gwaine's eyes.

"I thought you were supposed to be brave," he says, tone affectionate rather than chiding.

Gwaine gives him a rueful smile 

"So did I, Merlin."

"Just tell him."

"I've told him-"

"Not those ridiculous crude remarks you make, that doesn't count. Tell him properly."

There's a long silence and then Gwaine sighs.

"If I return to Camelot. If I... If I become his knight. Then I'll say it. For real."

"I'll hold you to that," Merlin says honestly and Gwaine nods.

"I still think-"

Gwaine holds up his hand and Merlin understands they've gone as far as they can go tonight.

"Priorities, mate. Can you work a little woo-woo on that chest of yours?"

"Don't call it woo-woo," Merlin says automatically but he had been thinking along the same lines. "There is a spell Gaius taught me..."

It takes four attempts and Gwaine rubs his back through it until Merlin takes his first easy breath in hours.

"Thank you," he says and Gwaine knuckles his hand through Merlin's hair.

"I better go rest up for the big fight."

"Go easy on Arthur," Merlin says and Gwaine gives him a tired smile.

"I couldn't hurt him."

"No," Merlin agrees. That was never in doubt.

He watches Gwaine melt into the shadows and turns his mind back to escape. The rest would have to wait.

*

_(it should feel like eons later with all that occurs in between and yet in some ways it feels like no time at all has passed when Merlin comes to deliver Arthur's breakfast and finds Gwaine snuggled in bed at his side._

_He_ _watches them awhile, heart full,_ _and then laughs, heading out with a handful of berries to find Gwen and tell her the good news.)_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
